


Dance in the Dark

by Louhetar



Series: Blood and Moon [2]
Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Aftercare, Anal Sex, Blood Drinking, Bottom Jon Snow, Forest Sex, Full Moon, M/M, Mates, Murder Husbands, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Shameless Smut, Size Queen Jon Snow, Supernatural Elements, Top Tormund Giantsbane, Vampire Bites, Vampire Jon Snow, Vampires, Werewolf Tormund Giantsbane, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:13:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27304666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Louhetar/pseuds/Louhetar
Summary: Jon lights up a cigarette, watching the forest become engulfed in silver light. The clouds have dispersed enough for the rays of the moon to light up the scenery in front of him. Of the full moon.His mate is somewhere out there, running out the moon fever, exhausting himself as his instincts go high wire.
Relationships: Tormund Giantsbane/Jon Snow
Series: Blood and Moon [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1993558
Comments: 12
Kudos: 60





	Dance in the Dark

**Author's Note:**

> A Halloween Jonmund fic! Happy Halloween 2020 even if were confined at homes due to covid... Hope this little piece of smut will make your day better 🥰
> 
> Title from Lady Gaga song
> 
> Big thanks to Jennie_D for beta 😭🥰

The night is dark. It's quiet. It's cold. It's his. it's theirs. It trembles in tension, akin to the air just before a storm.

The forest is absolutely devoid of sound. All animals are hiding, even the predators. They know they're beneath him. Beneath them.

Jon lights up a cigarette, watching the forest become engulfed in silver light. The clouds have dispersed enough for the rays of the moon to light up the scenery in front of him. Of the full moon. Not that he needs its light to be able to see in the night. His red eyes pierce through the darkness as if it was day.

He steps on the butt of his cigarette and begins to walk. excitement slowly crawling up his spine.

His mate is somewhere out there, running out the moon fever, exhausting himself as his instincts go high wire. His mate, cause that's what they are. Mates, husbands, partners, companions… The name doesnt matter, what does is they belong together. He'd only been a vampire for a few years when he met Tormund, and what they had thought would be a wild one night stand turned into something more, much more. 

He's been with Tormund for 3 years now, and Jon can freely admit they've been the best years of his life. Some elders of their communities would probably scowl at them, but they don't care. Jon knows he doesn't. They can sit in their dark moldy places believing like it's not the 21st century, while Jon can take full advantage of sunblock and uv lenses.

Jon no longer needs to buy black market blood bags with a willing donor around, Tormund's blood is much more potent than human one, sustaining him better. The werewolf's healing factor and fast metabolism quickly take care of any blood loss. As for Tormund, Jon is here for him on nights just like this one.

There is a fridge stocked up with food and water and heatbags waiting for Tormund after his transformation. Jon's here to massage his aching muscles and take care of him.

Not that Tormund would ever admit he needs being taken care of, but Jon knows he loves it.

The forest is still quiet, as if holding a breath. A snap of a twig somewhere to his right, makes Jon smile a toothy grin. Grin full of fangs.

He jolts in the opposite direction of the noise, and his grin only grows when he hears the commotion behind him. Jon runs at supernatural speed, his reflexes letting him avoid trees and branches easily. 

Jon jumps over a ravine, rolling on his side and jumping into running again, only now letting himself look back. Sure enough, the golden eyes and red fur of the giant wolf stark a contrast among the trees. Jon grins when the wolf growls and springs after him.

If Jon didn't know Tormund, he'd be scared out of his mind, even as a vampire. But he's not. He knows Tormund's harmless. It's all just play to run down the wolf's adrenaline. He's been carefully directing the chase back to their cabin.

He's almost there when a big body collides with his and Jon gets pinned to the moss covered ground.

He turns his head, expecting to see a maw of the great wolf, but instead is met with fever bright golden eyes and a tired but satisfied smirk.

"Hello, little crow."

Jon's breath hitches like it always does when he sees Tormund post transformation. The long red hair wild and falling on his face, the golden eyes all but glowing intensely down at him. His fangs are sharp and deadly in a toothy smug grin he gives Jon. Sweat glistens on the werewolf's muscles because of course the man is naked after his turn, his clothes hid neatly somewhere only he knows.

"Hi, fleabag," Jon murmurs with humour and moans when Tormund bites into his mouth. His eyes close in pleasure and Jon lets Tormund press himself to him. His hands go into the red curls he loves so much, an appreciative hum coming from his mate. The kiss is deep, wild and desperate, with more than little teeth. But Jon wouldn't have it any other way.

At last the werewolf pulls away, panting slightly, his eyes still intense as ever. It's only halfway into the night, Tormund could continue to run for hours. But Jon knows why they're here, like this. 

There are other ways they can use that wild adrenaline.

So it doesn't surprise him at all when the werewolf nips his ear and breathes hotly.

"I want you."

Fuck.

Tormund has no right to sound so fucking sexy. The low tone, underlined with a growl and something wild and nonhuman, makes Jon's blood boil in his veins.

"You have me." Jon manages to gasp out, rolling his hips up, not surprised to find Tormund already half-hard.

"I can smell how much you like this," Tormund's voice in his ear is thick and dripping with lust. He loves Tormund like this, confident, cocky, dominant.

It makes Jon shiver down to his core.

"Same about you."

Jon's smell sense may not be as strong as Tormund's, but he can smell the rich, sharp smell of arousal in the air. His fangs grow at the very thought at how delicious the wolf's blood must taste right now.

The werewolf nudges his chin up and rubs Jon's lip with his thumb. A shudder goes through him and Jon gasps softly. Taking the opportunity, Tormund traces Jon's canine with the tip of his finger and Jon can't stop his fangs from growing. 

"Sexy," The wolf breathes and licks along his neck, pressing this thumb on a top of Jon's fang till a coppery smell of blood fills the air.

Jon's tongue instantly on it, sucking the few delicious drops he can get. He can't help but moan at the taste.

The werewolf nuzzles, kisses and licks down his neck, groaning and rolling his hips, fully hard now; just as Jon is.

"Come on wolf, make me yours." Jon breathes hotly, wrapping his legs around his mate's waist, his body suddenly too hot for the clothes.

"But you're already mine," the man purrs, rubbing his hardness against Jon's, his eyes darkened and heavy lidded.

"Fuck." Jon closes his eyes, panting; his head hazy with desire.

"Soon." 

The werewolf is on him then, almost ripping his clothes off him. Tormund sits on top of him, looking down at Jon with admiration and hunger. A shiver runs through him and Jon moans when the wolf mouths at his neck, scraping over the soft skin.

"Your cock is so hard and wet for me, do you want to get fucked so badly?" The man teases, as he takes them both in his hand, earning a low keen from Jon's lips.

"Go on, fuck me, I'm ready. Lube's in the pocket." he manages between pants, Tormund's hand feeling so good around him.

"Are you now?" Tormund raises an eyebrow at him, his scent getting sharper, admiration bleeding through. The werewolf rolls his hips and Jon curses as their lengths rub against each other in his palm. Tormund is so hard for him. It only emboldens him.

"Yeah, been waiting for you. Come on! I don't have the whole night." Jon all but growls, almost crazy with desire now. The way the redhead is smirking at him, radiating smugness, isn't helping at all.

The man lets go of them to grab their lube and Jon uses this moment to catch his breath and try to get his instincts under control. His back is laying on moss softer than any sheets and the forest is bathed in silver moonlight. He loves it.

"Spread." Comes a rough order and Jon does so instantly, the sweet desire to please his mate pooling in his gut and making his painfully hard cock twitch. His eyes must be glowing red by now.

The werewolf drags his fingers down Jon's chest, then abs, the thrill of what those claws could do to him if Tormund pressed down, makes him keen lowly. The claws disappear and Tormund rubs around his hole, humming approvingly when he presses in two of his fingers, checking how stretched he is. "Good boy." He hums.

"Will you fuck me alre- oh." A deep moan bursts from his lips when Tormund curls his fingers against his sweet spot. White hot pleasure flashes behind his eyes and Jon moans shamelessly. So fucking good, damn. The werewolf removes his fingers then, causing Jon to whine at the loss, but he's rewarded instantly when Tormund palms himself and presses inside. He may have prepared himself, but the stretch is always ever present. It rips a deep moan from his lips and makes his head roll back, resting on the soft moss.

"That's it, you love it, don't you?"

"Mmm…" Is all that Jon manages, biting his lip in pleasure. His fangs make a cut and his mate wastes no time to lick into his mouth, slowly thrusting deeper into him.

Gods, it's so good. His toes curl and hands grab at the moss surrounding them. He knows Tormund can sense how good he feels. Just as he can smell him. He's drunk on it.

Jon opens his eyes to see Tormund's face scrunched in focus, the werewolf visibly struggling to keep the slow tempo. And Jon doesn't want him to.

"Go on, wolf, show me what you can." He breathes between pants.

Tormund's answer comes with a growl and snap of his hips, dragging a shout of pleasure from Jon's lips. Gods yes. His legs wrap around his man's waist and his hands grab at the muscled shoulders. He drags his nails there and the responding groan makes him grin in-between pants.

Tormund doesn't say much, too wired up and focused on pounding him inti the ground. The wolf is latched onto his neck, sucking and biting his skin, leaving marks and hickeys. Jon loves it, loves to be cherished like this. He knows he's loud but he doesn't care for it, moaning and crying out in pleasure when his prostate gets hit with his mate's big cock.

The werewolf looks so hot like this, the red mane surrounds his face like a halo and his expression shows pure pleasure. It makes something coil within Jon.

"Feed. Go on, little crow," comes the low burr of Tormund's voice right into his ear. Jon can't help but salivate at the thought of the moon induced adrenaline full blood. He's fangs have been begging to drop for so long and he can't stop them now. 

A scrape of skin and suddenly he can taste what has been driving him wild. The rich, potent blood of his mate fills his mouth and he moans in pleasure, his eyes rolling back. So good. So fucking good. The sun could rise right very now and he wouldn't care. He takes more in greedy gulps.

Jon barely registers Tormund's groan of pleasure and warm cum filling him as the bigger man shudders and falls on top of him. Jon's absolutely drunk on the wolf's blood, but Jon can still think clear enough, to let go of his mate's jugular, licking all the splattered blood around the wound, sealing it.

His mind is a mess, and he feels high and lightheaded. A deep sense of satisfaction and satiation spreads across him and in a rare second of clarity Jon notices his own cock going soft, cum splashed between their bodies. A deep moan leaves him, and then he's pulled into a deep, sloppy kiss. The kind of kiss that makes one forget about everything but themselves.

"Little Crow." The werewolf groans deeply into his mouth as he gently rolls them, putting Jon on top of him. It makes him sigh, and nip on Tormund's lip, his fangs hidden now. Slowly the red mist of pleasure dissipates in his mind and Jon rests his head against his mate's big shoulder.

"Delicious," he murmurs, kissing Tormund gently; sated and boneless now and opens his eyes to look at his man. A lazy happy grin adorns Tormund's face and his eyes no longer glow intensely. They're mostly blue again with sparkles of gold. Beautiful, perfect.

Jon gets up slowly, mindful of his weakened knees and holds out his hand to the bigger man. He may look small, but he isn't a vampire for nothing. Tormund takes his hand and helps himself up with a soft groan. Now that his adrenaline rush has ended the man is tender all over, his transformation taking a toll on his body. Jon smiles gently and walks his partner back to their cabin, glad it's not far.

"You're dirty as all hells, you need a bath, fleabag." Jon jokes and grins when Tormund makes an offended sound.

"As if you aren't."

Jon takes a look down on his nude body and can't help but agree. Not that he'll admit it. "And whose fault is that?"

Tormund's reply is another deep chuckle followed by a big hand patting his shoulder and gathering him to the werewolf's furry chest.

Once inside, Tormund makes himself comfortable on their sofa while Jon busies himself with making a bath. In a moment like this, he's really glad they got a place with a big tub. It's quiet and peaceful. Jon feels the last of excitement go down and he focuses on taking care of his mate. 

A few minutes pass and Tormund joins him in their bathroom, fatigue present in his posture. The two of them get into the bath with a soft groan, hot, scented water seeping into their tired muscles. Jon smiles at his man and moves closer with soap, slowly scrubbing the bigger man's back. The werewolf sighs at the pressure, Jon adding some to massage the soreness away. Transformations are really taxing for werewolves but they're both quite tired after all that. Jon has stew prepared in the slow cooker, and should make sure the wolf eats before falling asleep under several blankets.

Suddenly big hands grab him and Jon yelps in surprise as the werewolf gathers him to his chest. The kiss that follows is soft, gone is the moon fever. Jon melts into it, moaning softly, feeling his mate's hands drawing patterns in his back muscles. It's blissful. Perhaps their stew can wait.


End file.
